


Absolute Beginners

by Witch_Nova221



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, picnic angst, rumbelle fic a thon 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witch_Nova221/pseuds/Witch_Nova221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple plans a date for Belle but when the universe conspires against him it goes swiftly down hill and he's left questioning whether their relationship will ever get off the ground. Set between curse break and Belle getting shot and losing her memories at the town line. Part of the Tumblr Rumbelle Fic a Thon 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute Beginners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rumbellelives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumbellelives/gifts).



> Hello there lovelies. Well this is my little fic for the Rumbelle fic a thon 2016 on Tumblr. This is dedicated to my lovely giftee rumbellelives who gave me such an amazing prompt to work with. I also want to say thank you to my amazing beta for this fic, mariequitecontrarie who has been a joy to work with. I look forward to doing lots of other projects together. This is set somewhere between curse break and Belle being shot and losing her memories at the town line.
> 
> The title of this piece is a song by the late, great David Bowie and the lyrics of the song really inspired me in this.
> 
> Prompt: Rumple and Belle go on a date and it seems to go all wrong and Rumple gets sad because he wanted it to be the perfect date and LOTS OF FLUFF

This time it would be perfect.

That’s what Rumple promised himself as he put the finishing touches on the picnic basket he was preparing. He was glad he was alone in his kitchen with no one able to see the dark, sardonic Mr. Gold placing delicate finger foods, bottled iced tea, and crystal wine glasses into the little wicker basket with its blue gingham lining. The residents of Storybrooke, even before the curse had been broken, had both feared and been repulsed by him and he was only too happy to be universally hated. His only desires had been wealth and power and a chance to return to his son once those memories had been restored to him but then there had come the one person who made him long for things that contrasted so greatly with his projected image.

Belle, the beautiful, brave young woman who had seen the man behind the monster and then decided that she was fool enough to fall in love with him. 

Rumple frowned as he realised how desperately he had messed that up in the Dark Castle, responding to her perfect, loving kiss with hateful words and curses before tossing her into a cell then sending her from his sight with words he neither meant nor wished to say. He needed his power, that much was true, but he could have found a way. He had paid for his errors when Regina had come to him with the awful lie that his beloved Belle had perished after torture and torment from those who should have loved her.

When he had recovered his memories in Storybrooke it had been the loss of Baelfire and the loss of Belle that had caused him the most pain to remember. Quietly, he mourned the woman he loved while he prayed for the curse to break so he could find his son. He allowed himself a small smile as he remembered the hour before the curse was finally broken, the meek little voice that asked for Mr. Gold. Turning around in disbelief he had seen her standing there, a sight for sore eyes even in a crude hospital gown, hair dishevelled and face pale. . He had felt such elation to be with her once more, even without her memories. When she remembered and stopped him in his tracks, it was as though heaven had opened before him. He swore there and then he would make himself worthy of her.

The path had not been easy and he was still frantically trying to find a way to cross the town line and begin his journey to find his son. Today, however, his focus was on Belle and rebuilding the fragile relationship that had stuttered and stumbled since its inception. 

He still missed her presence in his home, her time with him all too brief, but at least she was only a five minute drive away, living in her small apartment above the library. No longer completely lost to him and they were growing closer day by day. . She had suggested they both take a week day off to spend time together, the library still not quite ready to reopen. Rumple had even fewer visitors to the shop now that his true self had been revealed and with nary a customer in sight, it was no small hardship to close for the day. He was all too willing to follow her lead and her suggestions, both of them faltering awkwardly through their courtship with little experience of what they should be doing.

He put the finishing touches on his basket, adding a bottle of red wine he had been keeping in the cellar, its value worth more than his car, but he was more than willing to forget the price if it made Belle happy. Hefting the picnic onto his left arm he headed to the door, the action made a little more difficult as the weight overbalanced him slightly. Though his magic had returned, it was not yet strong enough to heal his damaged leg. He descended the steps to the car, opening the trunk and placing the basket inside, tucking a blanket into the handle for them to sit on.

Happy with everything, he got into the car and absently checked his reflection in the mirror. Catching himself, he scoffed at his ridiculousness and put the car into drive, leaving for town. It was barely five minutes before he pulled up outside the library, smiling to see Belle already waiting for him, her face lighting as she saw him pull up. She didn’t hesitate to open the door and slip into the passenger seat, leaning over to kiss him in greeting, her delicate hands framing his face as she held him in place a moment longer.

“Hello,” she said, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she pulled back shyly.

“Hello,” he echoed, “Ready to go?”

Belle nodded. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned,” she said, as the car pulled away from the curb. “Think of it, Rumple. A whole day without interruptions.”

“Well this day is all about you,” said Rumple, “I just want us to be able to spend some time together without the whole of Storybrooke barging in.”

“They are rather annoying,” said Belle with a giggle, “It’s like those funny people in that show we watched; always popping up unannounced.”

“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” said Rumple dryly, “Or in our case Storybrooke’s resident hero brigade.”

“They mean well, I suppose,” said Belle, reaching for his hand as they hit the long straight road that led into the forest. “But if anything interrupts today, I’m going to be very disappointed. They’d best keep themselves to themselves.”

Rumple smiled at the determination in her voice, lacing their fingers together and resting their joined hands against his thigh as he kept the car steady with his free hand. They spoke of the library and her plans for it as they made their way through the woods, Rumple only taking back his hand when it was necessary to steer the car. Belle’s animated words were almost as sunny as the weather outside, the late summer not yet fading to autumn and leaving them with warm days and balmy evenings that Rumple hoped to exploit with their outdoors adventure. He finally had to relinquish his grip on her hand as the road became bumpier, twisting up the tree covered hill to the cliff top overlooking the sea. The picturesque spot would be their camp for the day. 

The driving was difficult and he wondered at the wisdom of bringing his Cadillac along such roads, wishing instead he had prevailed upon Dove, the only employee he was able to tolerate, to allow him use of the hulking off-road truck he favoured. Hindsight was of no use to him though as they travelled the ill-kept road. He was reassured that his passenger at least wasn’t in any distress, Belle’s laughter whenever they hit a particularly bothersome divot or pot hole swelled in enjoyment the rougher the road got. While the woman beside him enjoyed the difficult road, the car clearly did not and he heard the occasional grumpy whirr from the machine as he tried to ease it over the particularly tricky parts. 

Several loose rocks and a deep pothole soon proved to be their undoing and the car shuddered before the engine cut out completely, the brakes luckily responding in time. Rumple frowned, turning the engine over in an attempt to restart the engine but it didn’t work.

“What’s wrong?” said Belle, as he tried the car once more only to slam a hand against the steering wheel as it failed to start. 

“I have no idea,” said Rumple, “But needless to say we’re not going anywhere. Stay here; I’ll go and call Dove and get him come and pick us up.”

“Why?” said Belle, catching his sleeve as he made to get out of the car, “I don’t mind him picking us up later if the car won’t start but there’s no need to head back now.”

“But we’re a good two miles from where I intended to take you,” said Rumple, glancing down at his damaged leg with a frown, “I don’t think I can manage that distance over this sort of terrain.”

“Then let’s not go that way,” said Belle, peering out of the window, “It’s beautiful even this far up and I’m sure we can find something to do unless there was something you had specifically planned for our destination.”

Rumple shook his head. “My only aim for today was to spend time with you,” he said, pulling the keys from the ignition and putting on the brake. “Alright, let’s see if we can find somewhere around here.”

Belle smiled happily, passing him his cane that rested beside her leg before she got out of the car. “So what did you have planned for today?”

Rumple crooked a finger, beckoning her to join him at the back of the car before he popped open the trunk, revealing the picnic basket and the blanket inside. Belle smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners before she reached for the basket, brushing his hands away as he moved to stop her.

“Let me,” she said. “I know it won’t be easy for you to carry it over this kind of ground and this way I get to hold your hand.”

Rumple nodded before he closed the trunk, taking her hand and leading her away from the road. It didn’t take them long to find a clear space amongst the trees, Belle setting down the basket and spreading the blanket out on the ground beside the wide trunk of a tree. The enormous oak offered a place to rest their backs and a canopy of leaves to shield them from the sun’s hottest rays. She took his arm, refusing to indulge his pride as she helped him to sit before settling beside him, the basket forgotten as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

“This is perfect,” she said delightedly, reaching for the button on this suit jacket. “But you are entirely too overdressed for a picnic.”

Rumple let her remove his jacket before she went to work on his tie, popping his top two buttons when she was done. Content that he was more suitably dressed for their excursion, she kicked off her own shoes before curling up at his side, tugging his arm around her shoulders as she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

Rumple left a message for the local garage, hoping they would call back and come to pick up the Cadillac and tow it off the bumpy forest road before he turned his attention fully to the young woman in his arms.

They talked for several hours, both revealing more about their pasts than they ever had before. Neither of them kept anything back but they listened and accepted as they went; knowing they would need to start from a solid foundation of honesty if they had any hope of making their relationship work. The conversation soon turned to Baelfire and Rumple found himself smiling as he recounted some of his boyhood antics, realising it had was the first time he had thought of his son without sadness. It was only when Belle’s stomach growled that their thoughts turned to food, both realising that the sun was several hours past its peak. Time had passed swiftly and enjoyably as they conversed. 

The picnic was soon set out before them, Belle complimenting all the finger foods that had clearly not come from Granny’s Diner before she insisted on feeding him and he did the same for her. Rumple could think of nothing more perfect, both of them reclining on the blanket as the faint breeze stopped the late summer heat from being too stifling, wisps of Belle’s hair dancing in the occasional updraft as he watched her lovely, contented face. It was a great pleasure to see his beloved so relaxed and enjoying the freedom of the outside after so many years in captivity.

Although they were tranquil enough without it, Rumple sat up and reached for the bottle of wine leaning against the basket, handing Belle the two glasses as he went at the cork with a bottle opener. 

“That looks ancient,” said Belle.

“It’s usually referred to as well aged,” said Rumple. “This vintage is particularly celebrated so I thought, as this was a special occasion, we should put it to good use.”

“Well I feel very honoured,” said Belle as he finally wrestled the cork free, holding out one glass and then the other for him to fill. 

He set the bottle aside before taking the glass she offered him, clinking the rim to hers with a smile. “To us,” he said, “And to our future.”

“To our future,” echoed Belle, raising her glass to her lips and taking a sip of the ruby red wine.

Where Rumple had expected to see a look of bliss pass over her fair features he instead watched her grimace before she coughed. 

“Is something wrong?”

“Is it meant to taste like that?” asked Belle, “It’s like…that awful stuff Ruby always puts on her fries.”

Rumple took a sip of his own wine, resisting the urge to spit out what little he had in his mouth, contenting himself instead with chucking the remainder of the glass over the side of the blanket, “It’s corked,” he said grimly, “So much for a celebrated vintage.”

“I’m sorry, Rumple,” said Belle, bothered by his downcast expression. She tipped her own glass before she reached out to touch her fingers to his cheek. “Don’t let one silly old bottle of wine spoil today. At least we’ve still got the iced tea.”

Rumple managed a smile at her words, “You and that eternal silver lining,” he said fondly, “But you’re right, I’m not about to let a bottle of wine ruin our day.”

“Good,” said Belle, leaning over to kiss him. “Though please tell me you packed something sweet, if we can’t have wine then we must have cake.”

“How long have you known me?” said Rumple, pretending to be offended, “Of course there’s cake.”

He moved to sit up, but Belle pushed him back down. Obediently, he relaxed back against the blanket. Belle rifled through the contents of the basket, setting aside several cartons of leftovers before she pulled out the one she was after, laughing at what she found.

“Of course it had to be smothered in cream,” she said, sliding back to his side and opening the container to reveal two strawberry shortcakes. “All the time we were at the castle I knew I could get you to eat something, even if you were pretending you didn’t need to, so long as it was covered in whipped cream. I swear I injured myself some days. Of all the things you enchanted to help me with my work, you never once helped with that damn whisk.”

“Maybe I just liked to see you all rosy and breathless when you’d been fighting with that thing,” said Rumple with a wicked grin. “It wasn’t the smell of cakes that brought me to the kitchens so often you know.”

Belle blushed prettily, “I know,” she said. “Maybe I didn’t back then but I do now, and I certainly hoped back then. At least here we don’t have to make up excuses to be together.”

“So I can come and lurk in your kitchen whenever I please then?” said Rumple, reaching for one of the cakes before lifting it to her lips.

Belle took a bite, humming her approval at the confection. She wasn’t in the least bit surprised when Rumple closed the short distance between them, kissing her sticky sweet lips. She parted her lips at the first touch of his gently probing tongue, letting him deepen the kiss. Absently she reached between them and moved the cakes out of the way before she slid closer, sighing in pleasure as he moved so that she lay beneath him. She wrapped her arms around him, flattening her hands against his shoulders and enjoying the feel of his warm skin beneath the soft silk of his shirt.

The thunderous crack of a gun shot broke them apart in an instant, Rumple placing himself between her and the sound as he fought against the pain in his leg to get to his feet. Belle was at his back in a moment, too frightened of losing him once more to let go of his shirt sleeves.

“What was that?” she asked urgently, peering into the distance as she saw several people running along the tree line the other side of the road, clearly intent on some quarry.

“Moose hunting,” hissed Rumple. “Idiots. This is why I wanted to go further up the hill; they don’t get up that way as often. There’s nothing to worry about though, the animal will be in the denser part of the forest by now.”

“Poor thing,” said Belle. “It’s not like they need to do that around here; this isn’t the Enchanted Forest. They need to leave the poor beast alone.”

Rumple grabbed her arm as she stepped out from behind him, her hands fisted at her sides as she headed towards the road. “Where are you going sweetheart?”

“To talk some sense into those fools who are chasing that poor beast for sport rather than necessity,” said Belle, wriggling out of his grip but he swiftly took hold of her once more.

“Noble as your cause is, my dear, do you truly think that wise considering you are in your stocking feet and they are armed while you are not?” said Rumple, turning her to face him. “I don’t want you to get hurt, sweetheart, and blundering into a hunt in progress is a sure way to ensure you are. Sit back down; let’s address the follies of this world on another day.”

Belle’s eyes flashed hotly for a moment, and it seemed she would begin to argue with him. At last she sighed, releasing her hands from his before slipping them around his neck. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “Besides today is about us and I would hate to alter any plans you have.”

“To be honest this is the extent of what I had planned,” said Rumple. “Time alone, food…kissing; if that’s alright with you Miss French?”

Belle smiled sunnily. “That’s more than adequate for me, Mr. Gold. Shall we return to said pursuits, perhaps without the interruptions?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” said Rumple, once more swallowing his pride as she helped him back to sitting, his back once more against the tree as Belle picked up their abandoned dessert and returned to his side.

“Now then,” she said with a coquettish grin, “I think it’s my turn to feed you seeing as you were so generous to help me.”

She reached once more into the container, taking hold of the cake with its copious amounts of cream. A short buzz of annoyance forewarned her of her mistake, but it was not enough to give her a chance to remove her hand before pain seared through her palm. She cried out, dropping the container and the cake as she cradled her hand to her chest with a shriek. She vaguely heard her name called in alarm as warm hands took hold of hers but she feared any more pain and resisted the touch.

“Belle, sweetheart, let me look,” said Rumple, gently prying her hand from its death grip at her chest “I can help.”

Belle shook her head, tears smarting her eyes, “No, it hurts,” she said, refusing to open her hand. “Rumple, let me go!”

He immediately dropped her hands, holding up his own in an effort to calm her, “Ok I won’t touch you, but I can help heal it if you’ll let me.”

Belle’s face fell as she saw the expression on his. “I’m sorry Rumple,” she said, slowly opening her hand to reveal the angry looking puncture wound. “I know you’re only trying to help. It’s just when I was a child I got stung once and the physician put this horrible powder on it. It burned for days.”

“Well I promise this won’t hurt,” said Rumple. “Healing might not be a forte of dark magic but it should help you feel better.”

He called on his magic, still struggling a little with his control as his body adjusted to having power once more. He passed his hand over the injury, frowning as its appearance failed to change. He tried once, more but this time Belle cried out and pulled her hand away, her cerulean eyes blinking up at him with unshed tears.

“I don’t think healing is a forte of dark magic,” she said, forcing a smile. “It’s ok; it doesn’t hurt too much. Do you have a handkerchief? If I bind it, that will help.”

“Let me try again,” insisted Rumple, his heart sinking as he saw the flash of fear in her eyes,, He reached for his abandoned jacket and pulled loose the pocket square, handing it to her so she could bind her hand. “I’m sorry Belle.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said, tying off her makeshift bandage. “It’ll be ok. Please don’t look like that. Maybe a cuddle would help me feel better.”

Rumple shook off the blackening mood that wanted to settle over him and opened his arms to her, smiling as she settled herself against his chest. Any pleasure in the embrace was short lived though, Belle jumping and swatting at every insect, both real and imagined, Then any hope of relaxation was further diminished as shots rang out once more, the hunt for the moose on the other side of the road still going strong. He gave up entirely when he heard the faint rumble of thunder above them, several tiny spots of rain the introduction to a further downpour as he frowned at the approaching cloud.

“Belle get up,” he said, his tone a little sharper than he intended. “It’s going to rain so we’d best take shelter in the car.”

Belle didn’t argue with him, the look on his face one she knew well from the Dark Castle. Usually that expression was a prelude to him spending several days locked in the tower and refusing to speak to her. She helped him pack up the basket but before they were finished the thunder roared once more, the rain immediately beginning to fall with little mercy. Belle dashed for the car on instinct but she swiftly turned back, taking Rumple’s arm to help him over the difficult ground.

By the time they reached the car they were both drenched, the only items of clothing that had survived the downpour being Rumple’s now crumpled jacket and Belle’s shoes, which had been unceremoniously stuffed into the basket. Rumple pulled out his jacket once they were both inside the car, tossing the basket onto the backseat as he leaned over to wrap it around Belle’s shivering shoulders. 

“I’ll call Dove,” he said as the rain hammered heavily on the windshield. “He can pick you up and take you back home.”

“What about you?” said Belle as he retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialled the familiar number.

“I still need to wait for the garage to call back and come to pick up the car,” he said, before he turned his attention to the phone. 

Belle sat in silence as he gave his instructions to his employee, noticing the tight lines around his mouth and eyes that spoke of his ill humour. She waited until he ended the call and tossed the phone on the dash before she gently smoothed her hand over his hair, unsure of how to comfort him as he startled at her touch.

“Dove will be about twenty minutes,” he said on a sigh. “I’m sorry today didn’t go as planned, Belle. Seems everything that could go wrong did go wrong.”

“It’s not so bad,” said Belle, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. “We could still make the best of it. Leave the car here, drop the keys off at the garage on the way home, and let them pick it up.”

“And have Leroy strip it for scraps?” said Rumple. “I’m nowhere near brave enough to take that risk. You go home with Dove and get warm.”

“What about you?” she said. “You’re as drenched as I am.”

“Oh, I’ll be alright. Takes more than a rainstorm to make me unwell,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not as fragile as you, little mortal.”

Belle smiled, resting her head on his shoulder as the rain hammered outside. She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and remembering how it had lulled her to sleep when she had shared his bed. It had been several weeks since she had left his house, uncomfortable with his use of magic and his secrecy. Since he had given her the apartment above the library they hadn’t spent a single night together. She appreciated the space he had given her but she missed him dreadfully. She’d hoped his plans for the day wouldn’t end at sundown, but now it seemed that fate was forcing them apart once more. After silence had reigned for a while she steeled her courage, pressing her lips to his cheek before she put them to his ear.

“Could you call Dove back and tell him to leave us for an hour or so?” she said. “Give us a little more time together?”

“Why would you want to sit here soaking wet for another hour?” said Rumple. “You’ll get cold.”

“Warm me up then,” said Belle, popping a button on his shirt and slipping her fingers inside to caress the smooth skin of his chest.

She raised her head as he turned to look at her, a frown on his face.

“Belle?”

She smiled shyly, a blush staining her cheeks as she spoke. “There’s no one else around,” she said, popping another button free. “We could climb into the back.”

Rumple smiled indulgently, closing his hand over hers to cease her movements. “Sweetheart, you are worth far more than a quick fumble in the back of a car,” he said gently. “We don’t need to rush this.”

Belle blushed crimson, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms over her chest as she trained her eyes on the windshield. “Sorry, I just thought you might…” she began before she shook her head, “Never mind.”

“Belle…”

“No, it’s fine,” she said, pulling his jacket tighter around her, “It was a silly thing to say.”

“No, it wasn’t, sweetheart,” he said, brushing the back of his fingers over his cheek. “If you want us to move that way again then we can start back in that direction, but I want you to be sure.”

Belle frowned, moving her face away from his touch. “You don’t need to speak to me like I’m a child; I know my own mind.”

“I know that, Belle,” said Rumple, folding his hands in his lap, “But you’ve been through a lot and we rushed things after the curse broke. Then you left and I…”

“Oh, of course, it’s my fault,” said Belle, reaching for the door handle. “You conveniently forget that it was you keeping things from me that made me leave.”

She didn’t wait for him to answer, shouldering her purse and stepping out into the rain, uncaring as it pummelled her with the ferocity only a summer storm could manage.

“Belle, for heaven’s sake get back in the car,” said Rumple as he got out of the driver’s side. “I don’t know what I’ve said to upset you. I’m no good at this Belle. I need you to talk to me.”

“No, you just need me to behave like your little maid or one of your precious, delicate treasures,” said Belle as Dove’s hulking four-by-four pulled up behind them. “Well I’ll tell you this: I’m a grown woman, Rumple, and if you love me you’ll start treating me like one. I might not know much about dating, but Ruby told me that if a man is really into you he won’t turn you down. I guess you just don’t want me to be anything other than something you can put on a pedestal.”

“Miss French?” said Dove, the giant of a man appearing at her side holding an umbrella.

“Coming,” she said sharply. “Goodbye Rumple.”

She stormed to the car without waiting to be followed. Dove looked over at his employer, waiting for his nod before he headed to the car. Rumple watched as the car turned smartly in the road, the huge wheels far more adept for the terrain, as it disappeared back down the hill. He shook off his reverie before he got back in the car, his mind whirring as he thought of the disaster the day had become despite the hope it had started with. With a groan he set his head against the steering wheel, losing himself in his thoughts as the rain continued to punish the car.

xxxx

Belle hugged the damp suit jacket tighter around her small shoulders as she stared out of the window of the four-by-four, glad that Dove had turned the heat up full blast when he saw her shivering. It had been several minutes since they had left Rumple, the large car handling the landscape far better than the Cadillac had and making the descent far quicker than the ascent had been. 

“Are you alright Miss French?” said Dove from the front seat.

The wipers managed several swipes across the windshield before Belle took a shuddering breath and answered him.

“I’m fine Dove, thank you. I just want to get home.”

“Might I say something, Miss?” he asked.

Belle frowned. “You don’t have to ask permission to speak to me,” she said.

“Well, it’s not my place to say,” said Dove, “but I heard what you said to Mr, Gold before we left. Your friend, Miss Lucas, was wrong in her statement. A boy would treat you as she said, but a man? A man would respect you. I don’t know what caused you both to argue but if it’s about something like that I’d say you need to realise that the boss respects you and doesn’t want to push you. He doesn’t want you hurt again, Miss. He cares about you.”

Belle was silent, her eyes tracing the tracks of the raindrops down the window as she turned over the day in her mind. For all the time she had known Rumple he had been a creature that strived for perfection wherever he could, everything pristine and neat; just like one of his contracts. She had to admit to herself that the date she knew he had planned to the last moment had been less than perfect from the start, setting him on edge and making him question himself. 

She frowned as she thought of her own actions, fuelled after a late night conversation with Ruby. She had confessed both her nerves and her desire to move her relationship with Rumple forward once more. Her friend had first questioned her attraction to the man but had proceeded to give her a myriad of tips on how she should behave and what she should expect from him in response. She cursed herself for listening to her; Ruby may be a good friend but she didn’t date mature men like Rumple. Most of her dating experience had been during the curse and with men that the world would consider typical of their breed. Rumplestiltskin was far from a typical man and his insecurities ran deep. 

Belle bit back a curse, toying with the idea of getting Dove to turn the car around. She decided against it, knowing that she had upset Rumple badly and they would both be better off if they had some time to think.

A few minutes later they pulled up outside the library, Dove exiting the car and opening the umbrella before he came to the back and opened the door for her. Belle stepped out, realising as she did so that her shoes were still in the basket in Rumple’s car and a small giggle escaped her as they headed to her door.

“Will there be anything else, Miss French?” asked Dove as Belle fished in her purse for the keys. 

Belle paused for a moment before she called on all the bravery she had, looking up at the gentle man beside her, “Do you have keys for Mr. Gold’s house?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss.”

“Would you come inside for a while if you haven’t got anything else to do? I’m going to need your help with something,” said Belle.

“Mr. Gold said I was to be at your disposal, Miss,” said Dove, returning her smile as she opened the door and led him upstairs.

xxxx

Dusk was fast approaching as the tow truck finally drew up outside the pink Victorian that Rumple called home. He offered a gruff thank you to the young mechanic before gingerly exiting the vehicle, the long drop from the cab and the ache in his damaged leg from the wet and the cold searing through him as he hit the sidewalk. The truck moved off, towing the out of action Cadillac behind it, a day or two of repairs awaiting the car after its mountain trip. The car’s condition seemed to sum up his day perfectly; broken before it had really gone anywhere. 

He had had such plans for their date, wanting to help Belle relax after the turmoil that had rocked them since she had awoken from the curse. Wanting to open himself up to her in the hope she would come to trust him and his motives. Instead they had lurched from one disaster to another, and by the time the rain had chased them back to the car he had all but abandoned any hope of proving to Belle that he was worthy of her. Her offer of herself had surprised him, and his heart had leapt at the thought of being intimate with her once more but he wanted to give her more than some teenaged fumble in the backseat of a car. He had thought he was doing the right thing but it seemed Belle had been expecting something else, something she had been coached to expect by people who had no business meddling in their affairs.

His mood was dark as he dragged himself up to the door. Fingering his phone, he contemplated calling Belle to at least wish her goodnight but he didn’t think he could take her either ignoring him or worse, telling him she no longer wished for his attentions. He ignored the sting of tears at the back of his eyes, forcing the key into the lock and opening the door.

He had tossed the picnic basket onto the chair in the foyer before he realised he could hear music coming from the living room, the warm savoury smell of something fresh out of the oven swiftly following. Curiosity won out over concern as he headed towards the door, noticing the faint light that flickered beneath; candlelight, he surmised, rather than the electric overhead. 

His heart slammed against his ribs as he thought of only one person who could possibly be in his home, but he dared not trust to that hope as he opened the door. The pitiful organ seemed to cease its beat altogether as he took in the scene before him, candles dotting every free surface and giving the room a warm, welcoming glow. The lights framed the blanket set out on the floor, various dishes set out on china plates while a wine cooler sat to one side bearing an unopened bottle of champagne. All these wonders failed in comparison though to the beautiful young woman standing with her hands clasped in front of her halter-necked white sundress as she nervously awaited his approval of the scene. 

“Belle?” he said, hating the crack to his voice as he tried to make sense of what was before him, “What…”

“You wanted today to be perfect and things went wrong,” said Belle softly, her hands wringing before her, “I behaved badly and I said things I didn’t mean. I just wanted to get this right between us and my nerves got the better of me.”

“You’ve nothing to apologise for, I…”

“No,” said Belle, holding up her hand before she stepped over the blanket to his side. “No, I do, Rumple, and you need to be able to see that. I am not some perfect creation that you have to treat like glass; I’m a woman with all the flaws that come with being human. I’m going to screw things up, I’m going to get angry with you, I’m going to say the wrong thing and so are you. Neither of us is perfect and we need to accept that if we want to move forward together.”

Rumple managed a small smile at her words, setting his cane aside as he took her hands. “I never once believed myself to be perfect, sweetheart,” he said, “And I will struggle to think you anything less than the very definition of it, but I will try. I’m so sorry that today went so wrong. I just wanted you to have a nice day.”

Belle smiled. “Well, it’s not over yet,” she said, looking behind her at the picnic set out on the rug. “We could try again without the risk of moose hunts and bees and rain storms. I can’t make any promises about the wine, though.”

Rumple laughed at the last statement, the tension of the day melting away as he looked into blue eyes that sparkled in the light of the candles. “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” he said, bending to kiss her softly before he pulled back and looked down at his abused attire. “Should I change before we eat?”

“You look fine to me,” said Belle, leading him over to the blanket and helping him down. “Less than perfect, and that’s the theme for the evening.”

Rumple watched her as she uncorked the champagne, the top coming off with ease before she poured the bubbling wine into the crystal glasses, her face a picture of concentration as she tried not to spill a drop. They laughed together when several splashes fell on the blanket, and he saw the perfect metaphor in that one action. The occasional mishap nothing so long as the main goal was achieved. 

“Thank you for this Belle, I thought after today…”

“No!” she said playfully. “Forget earlier, we’re starting from now. One thing before we move on, though, how’s your poor car?”

Rumple laughed at her expression that made it seem she was speaking about a kitten rather than a machine. “In the shop for at least a couple of days,” he said, “Something about a broken axle and something complex with the engine that I’ll leave to the experts.”

“Well then,” said Belle, handing him a glass before sitting down beside him, “I guess you’ll just have to walk me home in the morning.”

“In the morning?” said Rumple, tucking an arm around her as she settled her head against his shoulder.

“Yes, darling, in the morning.”


End file.
